One Little Slip
by xxMusicalMime
Summary: He didn't know what to say, either because he was still guilty of the low blow he delivered that day, or it was the first time she called him by his first name. Dramione, of course. R&R ;


**A/N: It's me again ;D**

_Yeah, so maybe you've noticed my seemingly untouched stories (specifically "I Lied"). I'm just too busy these days. And no one is reviewing :(. So until then, it's on temporary hiatus._

_Okay, this story I created AAAGES ago. I looked at my folder and saw this again. And I was drinking Coca-Cola, too (coincidence, not a conspiracy ;D), so I finished it :D_

_Here it is. Hope you enjoy :D_

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><p>The only thing Draco Malfoy regretted that day was to drink two glasses of Coca-Cola. Afterwards, everything went downhill.<p>

But, as it so happens, that night was one he would never forget, and he loved to relive it over and over again.

He was at a celebration in the Aurors Department, awkwardly sliding between guffawing wizards, tipsy witches, and panicky interns. Spills rocketed to the floor every other millisecond, and the speedy janitors don't even bother and were just swigging firewhiskey by the corner. Every inch of the walls and the cubicles were plastered with Harry Potter's ever-famous face, with the heading of "New Head Auror! Congratulations!" underneath in big, glowing letters.

Since it was the Aurors celebrating, they had to consider refreshments that had little or no alcohol content unless there was an emergency in the middle of the party. There were only things like Coca-Cola, Pepsi, Mountain Dew, and pumpkin juice. Of course there was water and some punch. Those aurors who had big cloaks had the opportunity to smuggle in a bit of elf wine and Madam Rosmerta's mulled mead. Only the janitors were able to smuggle in firewhiskey, and they received death glares from Aurors all throughout the night.

Draco, however, wasn't in the mood for partying. Who wouldn't after breaking up with your girlfriend, having a full in-tray, being the "weak link" to the Malfoy family, and still adjusting yourself into a society that branded you a Death Eater for eternity? He'd had a lot of time to unwind in the past. It was time for him to try and do something useful of his own free will for the better good.

He hastily pushed a drunken Ronald Weasley from his desk, wiped off the saliva Weasley left on his memos, and concentrated hard on the paper he had to finish by next Thursday. Every other minute the Aurors would yell to the ceiling whenever the invisible DJ would tune up the bass and make the walls shake themselves loose from the foundations. This was what happened for the next thirty minutes, and all Draco wrote was: "The Auror Department apologizes."

"Draco!" slurred one very drunk, but otherwise happy, Harry Potter as he slung an arm over Draco hunched figure. He grabbed the quill from his hand and dripped ink across the page, making the youngest Malfoy turn around in his seat in rage. Harry met his face with a glass full of Coca-Cola in his hand. "Cheer up, ferret boy! Have a drink once in a lifetime!" He guffawed at his own joke and waddled away like a penguin.

He reckoned his face was going purple with anger and embarrassment by the looks of his fellow Aurors, and so to hide his insecurity, he hastily drank the Cola. It slightly seared his throat, and parched it more, and he kept drinking until he drained the glass in one gulp. Soon he was pushing people out of the way to the refreshments table before he could lose his mind by not having enough Coca-Cola.

"Ah," he sighed happily, reluctantly parting his lips from the glass briefly to breathe before drinking again.

SMACK!

His glass clunked on the heavily carpeted floor (which was now stained with Draco's precious Coca-Cola), and he looked up dismally.

"Granger?" he asked incredulously.

She raised one eyebrow daringly. He noticed her hair was up in a neat bun, with strands of brown hair framing her face and bringing out the fierceness in her deep brown eyes. She was wearing a dignified yet sexy-looking Muggle suit, with a pencil skirt, a matching coat, and a plain white undershirt.

"Don't drink that," she said, pointing to the spilled contents of his drink. "It's got as much acidity as acid rain!"

"Oh, grow up, Granger," he slurred, grimacing. Here goes the nagging. "Look, if it has that much acidity, then shouldn't I be writhing in pain by now? Shouldn't I have my pores being dissolved this very instant? And here I am, scolding the brightest witch of her age – "

"Don't you look down on me, Malfoy," she hissed, squinting her eyes. She straightened her shoulders, raised her chin high, and equaled his height, her eyes never leaving his grey ones. "You have no authority."

"Weasley's always looking _down_," he emphasized, glancing at the floor briefly to elaborate. "And yet you don't scold him. I think an accusation of favoritism is in order."

She reddened and hastily pulled her coat closer to her chest, blocking off Draco's vision of her cleavage. "T-that's none of your business, Malfoy – "

"So is my drink for you, Granger, but sadly, this party is one of the excuses we have for nosing into each other's business."

"What do you mean?" she said guardedly.

"Oh, come on, Granger, admit it! You've got the hots for me!"

Everyone went dead silent. Even the magical turntable scratched to a halt. And then everyone chanted the same word: "DRAMIONE! DRAMIONE!"

"Stop it! Stop it! I do not fancy Draco Malfoy!" she roared to the Aurors, but they weren't listening. They were closing in on the two, unconsciously forcing their bodies against each other until their personal bubbles combined into one.

"I AM LEAVING!" Hermione yelled at last, elbowing the nearest Auror and making a beeline to the exit.

"Oh, no you don't!" Draco screamed after her, laughing. He was enjoying this attention so much that he had obtained yet another glass of Coca-Cola. He grabbed her arm and twisted her around – an Auror knocked his glass out of his hand. It went flying and landed on Hermione's undershirt.

Brown liquid blossomed on her undershirt, making it stick to her skin. After a few seconds of panicking, the crowd backed off – just to vaguely see what Hermione was wearing underneath her suit.

"I HATE YOU!" she screamed at Draco, her face red with embarrassment and anger as the crowd (mostly men) started to laugh and jeer. She tried her best to cover her front, but all had seen the lacy brassiere. Draco, who took part in laughing, stopped abruptly as soon as he saw her eyes filled with tears threatening to flow.

"Hermione, wait – "

But too late. She had Disapparated with a dignified _pop!_

"Brilliant, Malfoy!" the crowd kept cheering. They were drunk, wasted, and were being complete idiots. Even the female Aurors were giggling. Draco Malfoy found himself as a lone sane soul in a tide of insanity.

"Let me go!" he screamed, and even though he didn't know where she would go at a time like this, he vanished with another _pop!_

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><p>She hated him. She <em>hated <em>him. And she also hated the fact that she couldn't stop _sniffling._

She directly Apparated to her flat from the party, and was grateful that none of her neighbors were back yet. As soon as she was inside, she curled up by the front door and cried, not bothered by the wetness on her chest. She didn't even bother to turn on the lights.

"I hate him… I hate him…" Hermione Granger kept repeating to herself, wiping off the tears sliding down her cheeks. "He is just an arrogant, selfish, sniveling little ferret…"

It must've been hours since she left. When she finally got the strength to stand up, the spilled Coca-Cola had dried and stained her undershirt, and a tingling sensation went to her legs, signaling the return of her control of them.

There came a sudden knocking on the door, and she yelped.

"Hermione!" a familiar voice said, distraught and desperate. She was rooted to the spot, dumbfounded. "Hermione, are you in there?"

"G-go away!" she screamed, turning back on the door. The knocking didn't stop. "I said go away, Malfoy!"

"Like hell I'd do that!" The knocking ceased, but then the door strained, as if it was imploding. Hermione heard him grunt a curse. She could imagine him trying to break down the door with his back. "Open up!"

"No!"

"Open up, or else…"

"Or else what?" she answered in a shout. "You're going to kill me? You're going to blow the roof off this place? I don't care, Malfoy! If I say leave me alone, leave me alone! If I say let me go, then let me go! And if I say go away, then go away!"

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><p><em>She snapped. Oh, dear Merlin, she snapped. What should I do?<em>

It had grown eerily quiet since her outburst four minutes ago. He knew for a fact that she was still in there. She could hear her sniffling on the other side of the door. Her neighbors had come out of their flats to see what was going on, and, completely misunderstanding the fickle for a love quarrel, they had patted him on the back, gave him a "she'll-come-around" face and left him there sitting with his back on her front door.

"Dummy…" was Hermione's first word after her screaming fit. Draco barely heard it, but he did, and he kept silent and listened. "I always… hated you… even when we were at Hogwarts…"

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"…didn't you realize?" she continued. "All this time, you never noticed? I'm not like the rest. Sure, I might be hostile, but I'm just being guarded. I'm not the same girl you teased for looking for Neville's pet toad on our first train ride to Hogwarts, Draco."

He didn't know what to say, either because he was still guilty of the low blow he delivered that day, or it was the first time she called him by his first name.

The lock on the door suddenly turned, and Hermione Granger stood there, her eyes red and puffy, and her undershirt stained brown. She put out a hand to help him up and said, "It's past eleven. You should get inside."

"Does this mean I'm forgiven?" he asked, accepting her help and dusting his shirt.

"Maybe," she said slyly.

He didn't know what to say again. Relief exploded in his chest. Even though he was sure that he wasn't entirely forgiven yet, at least she wasn't being hostile.

"Hermione?" he called.

"Yeah?" she said, turning around…

Draco Malfoy planted a kiss on her lips. He never meant it to stay like that, but there was a feeling of delight in the back of his mind. He had always wanted to do this, ever since she slapped him in their third year.

There came a time that Draco had the sense to look at her face for her reaction and saw that she had gone rigid, and her eyes were wide with shock. However reluctant, he cut off the kiss and squirmed.

"Uhh… sorry," he mumbled pathetically. He knew his face was as red as Weasley's hair by now. "I… don't know what came over me – "

But then Hermione snuggled into his chest, emitting a small sigh of happiness.

"Don't go," she pleaded in a small voice. He was shocked, but he overcame it quickly. He patted her head, and smiled. "Okay, I won't."

She smiled. "Stay here while I go change," she said, motioning to the bathroom and her soiled clothes.

"I think that can wait," he said coyly, pulling her arm and catching her lips again. This time, though, he didn't intend to leave her anytime soon.

**_Fin_**


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